


Head Trauma

by BreakfastTea



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Concussions, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25342882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: Suffering from a concussion, Noctis struggles to understand what's going on around him.-Brotherhood era fic-
Comments: 40
Kudos: 176





	Head Trauma

**Author's Note:**

> And here we are, the last Fanfic Friday request of 2020. This one goes out to IvoryDice :D Hope you enjoy this ^_^

Noise. Roaring? Voices? Both? The world screamed around him.

Pain. So much. In his head. In his stomach. His back.

Bad smell. Really, really bad smell. Sickness?

Heat. Hot. Too hot. Fire?

Nothing made sense. It was too dark.

His eyes weren’t open.

Wake up. He needed to wake up.

Noctis forced his eyes open. Saw flames. _Felt_ flames. Some instinctive part of his brain said that wasn’t right. That was bad. Really bad. Stuff wasn’t supposed to be on fire. Except he couldn’t find the right reaction. Couldn’t get himself moving or panicking. Couldn’t even think clearly. He just knew the world burned around him.

Shadows fell.

Noctis couldn’t stop his eyes from closing.

* * *

Next time, there were definitely voices.

Calling his name.

But his head still hurt.

And he was so tired.

“Need you to wake up.”

He didn’t want to. Couldn’t…

Something closed around his hand. What was that? He jolted hard, trying to pull away. His heart pounded, his head exploding.

“Noct, it’s okay. You’re safe, you’re – ”

He fell away, back into the darkness.

* * *

“Noct?”

A voice called out across the darkness. It hooked into him, hauling him into the light. Noctis’ eyes opened. The light stabbed into him, dragging burning hot blades of agony across his skull. He slammed his eyes shut. Someone cried out.

“It’s okay,” said the voice. “You’re safe.”

Wrong. Wrongwrongwrong. The light hurt. His head would explode. Something hot and acidic rushed up his throat.

“Doctor! Hurry, we need you!”

He blacked out before he finished vomiting.

* * *

He felt cold. Really cold. If he thought about it, and that wasn’t as easy as it should be, the cold started on his head. And it felt good. Really, really good. It pushed the pain back.

“Noct? Open your eyes.”

Okay. He could try that.

Open. Everything was blurry. Fuzzy.

This time, light didn’t stab him. Wherever he was, the light was restrained. Dim. It didn’t attack.

Something squeezed his hand. “Noct?”

He didn’t think he could move. He couldn’t speak either. His voice wouldn’t come out. He had to settle for a grunt. It was the best answer the voice would get right now.

Someone beside him took a sharp breath. “Thank goodness.”

Noctis didn’t dare move his head. That voice though… sounded like…

Dad.

Dad was here.

And then Dad was there. Right over him.

Why was Dad floating over him?

Oh, no, that was too weird. Noctis’ head throbbed with the effort of trying to put too many pieces together. Dad could fly? Float? Dad was a floating head now? Where was the rest of his body?

“Calm your breathing,” Dad said. “You’re fine. You’re safe. There’s nothing to worry about.”

That didn’t seem accurate, especially coming from a floating head.

Something nearby started beeping, loud and fast. The pain crashed into his head. His whole body reacted, trying to move away.

“No, no, stay put. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

He couldn’t be. Dad was broken. Everything was messed up!

What was going on?

Dad sighed. “Go back to sleep.”

Noctis didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to get out of here, find out what had happened, fix Dad and –

Something brushed his hair. Gently. Feather soft. Over and over. The motion calmed him, dispersing his thoughts and his fears.

“Let go,” Dad said. “I promise, it’s over now.”

Over? What was over?

The question followed Noctis back into sleep.

* * *

“It’s time to wake up.”

The voice penetrated the blackness. Noctis’ eyes opened. He saw a room. Not his room. Somewhere else familiar to him. The word came to him out of the fog clinging to his brain.

Infirmary.

The beeping sound returned, too fast and loud.

He wasn’t flat on the bed anymore either. He rested at a forty-five degree angle. Meaning he could see Dad sat beside him.

Dad, looking totally and completely normal. Not that Noctis remembered why he was so worried. The shifting, clinging feeling of a dreadful nightmare slid away. His heartrate slowed and steadied.

Dad could tell him what had happened.

“How are you feeling?” Dad asked.

Noctis wasn’t sure how to answer that. He settled for a very careful shrug.

Dad smiled. “That’s a more coherent answer than previous ones.”

“Previous?”

“Sorry.” Dad held up a hand. “The doctors have ordered me not to tax you too much.”

Tax him? Dad was gonna make him pay more tax? Noctis frowned. “I don’t get it.”

Dad stood, reached out, and gently ran his hand over Noctis’ hair. “You don’t remember what happened?”

Noctis had no idea about anything right now.

“There was a training accident. A Kingsglaive lost control. Unfortunately, you were caught in the blast. Took a serious blow to the head. You have a very nasty concussion.”

The information poured uselessly off Noctis’ brain. “Huh?” He had no memory of any of that.

“Do you think you can stay awake long enough for me bring in Doctor Gainsborough?”

Noctis couldn’t guarantee he’d stay awake that long, but he’d give it his best. “Okay.”

“Good boy.” Dad gave his hand a squeeze, left the bedside chair, and headed out of the infirmary room.

Sinking back against his pillows, Noctis let his body tell him what was wrong. Actually, he felt fairly floaty right now. He took a risk and moved his head, spotting IVs in his arm. That meant…. Painkillers? Probably. Had to be why he felt so floaty. His thoughts kept skittering away from him. He couldn’t focus. He tried to remember what had happened, only for something in the room to catch his attention. Like the window. Which showed night sky. Night-time? He didn’t know why, but that felt wrong. He was sure it should still be daytime.

The door opened. Dad returned, Doctor Gainsborough close behind. Noctis saw him and felt his heart sink. He wasn’t in the mood to be poked and prodded. Maybe he could go back to sleep instead.

“No, no, Prince Noctis, don’t fall asleep just yet,” Doctor Gainsborough said. “We’re going to run a few tests, and then you can sleep again. This is the first time you’ve been cognizant.”

Cogni-what?

Doctor Gainsborough chuckled. “Forgive me. Alright, tell me your name and your date of birth.”

Noctis succeeded. Could he sleep now?

“Stay awake just a little longer,” Doctor Gainsborough said as Dad chuckled behind him. “Can you tell me the last thing you remember prior to waking up here?”

Could he? Um… He thought hard. Nothing came to him.

“That’s alright,” Doctor Gainsborough said. “Now, I need to use a penlight to check your eyes. If you’re still too light-sensitive, I’ll stop immediately.”

Noctis steeled himself. This was going to suck.

And it did. The light stabbed into his pounding head, the painkillers not doing much to hold it back.

“Well, that’s answered one question,” Doctor Gainsborough said, turning the light back off. “My apologies, Your Highness. We won’t try that again. The good news is the scans we took earlier don’t suggest…”

The doctor’s droning voice faded away as Noctis retreated into quiet, blissful, pitch black sleep.

* * *

The next time he woke up, he saw Dad drinking coffee beside his bed, reading a report. Soft light drifted into the room, the lamps turned down low, curtains keeping out most of the light. A massive yawn rocked Noctis. He winced at the pain in his head, breath catching.

Dad looked up with a smile. “Good morning,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

Noctis considered the question. “Head still hurts.”

“The doctor wants to know if you feel sick at all. If you do, he can give you some more medicine to help with that.”

Noctis did not.

“How’s the memory coming along?”

“I’m in the infirmary,” Noctis said. He tried to remember what he’d been told. It was there, but he couldn’t grab the memory. “Forgot why.”

“It’s alright,” Dad said. “We expect you to be a bit scrambled. What’s the last thing you remember before being here?”

Pulling a hand free of the bedcovers, Noctis reached up to his head. Found bandages. Felt the bruises. What had he been doing? An accident? Had he done something stupid?

“Noct, I can hear your thoughts. This wasn’t your fault. It was an accident and you were caught in the middle. A training accident.”

He still didn’t remember. But he did remember…

“I convinced Ignis to make pancakes,” Noctis said.

Dad laughed. “Yes, he mentioned your powers of persuasion. That was two days ago. It’s good progress. You weren’t able to tell me that last time I asked.”

“Great,” Noctis said.

“Do you remember the checks over night?”

No, he did not.

“That’s okay. Doctor Gainsborough will be back on duty in a few hours. He’ll give you a thorough check up then. Do you want to sleep more, or will you talk to your old man for a bit?”

Feeling a tiny bit nauseous, but figuring sleeping constantly wasn’t the best idea, Noctis gave a careful nod. “Can you tell me what happened?” At the sight of Dad’s expression, Noctis added: “Can you tell me again?”

“You were in a training hall two days ago, waiting for Gladio. A Kingsglaive was in the room next door, overdoing it. He had an accident and created an explosion. You were caught up in it.”

The words didn’t register with any memory. “What happened to the Glaive?”

“He didn’t make it.”

“Oh.” Noctis reached out. “I’m sorry.”

Dad took his hand. “Thank you.”

“Was anyone else hurt?”

“No. Just yourself.”

Relief washed through him.

“You’ve been in and out since then. But it seems you’ve turned a corner this morning.”

Noctis could hear the relief in Dad’s voice. “I feel better. Sort of.”

“You’re a lot more lucid this morning,” Dad said. “It’s a good sign.”

“Lucid?”

“Awake,” Dad translated.

“Awake,” Noctis repeated. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be. He was still exhausted. And the pain in his head climbed up a couple of notches. “When will I be better?” He didn’t want to have to spend weeks trapped in a hospital bed again. “Can’t I stay in my own room?”

“Not until Doctor Gainsborough says so,” Dad said. “You’re still healing.”

“Fine,” Noctis sighed. He closed his eyes. “Guess I’ll wait ‘til Doctor Gainsborough gets here.”

He didn’t really mean to doze off, but he was asleep before he could stop himself.

* * *

Dad’s voice brought him back. Opening his eyes, Noctis saw Dad talking to Doctor Gainsborough. Noctis must’ve made some kind of noise, because they turned to him in sync. Moments later, Doctor Gainsborough launched into his usual battery of tests.

“And you still have no real memory of the accident?” Doctor Gainsborough asked.

“No,” Noctis said. “Dad told me, but it’s like hearing a story. It doesn’t feel like it happened to me. Has it really been two days?”

“Yes, two whole days,” Doctor Gainsborough said. “As for your memory, that’s to be expected. It may never return.”

Noctis sucked in a deep breath when the penlight made a new appearance. It hurt, but not as much as last time.

“We’ll give it a few more hours before we let you return to your own room,” Doctor Gainsborough said. “I’d rather be safe than sorry. You’ll need to stay in a darker, quiet place for a few days yet.” He turned to Dad. “Keep all visitors to an absolute minimum. And under no circumstances leave him unattended for anything longer than an hour.”

Dad nodded. “It’s been taken care of.”

Noctis stared at him, trying not to get his hopes up. Did that mean…?

“I can work from home for a day or two,” Dad said. He smiled at Noctis. “Besides, it will do Clarus some good to run things for a few days.”

Noctis smiled, blinking back a sudden rush of tears. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent time with Dad. He was used to snatched moments and the occasional meal together. This… this would be…

“Hush now,” Dad said, reaching out to brush away Noctis’ tears. “You’re alright.”

Crying wasn’t going to help the headache. Noctis took slow, deep breaths, pushing his emotions away. It wasn’t easy, but he managed.

“I’m going to your room to make sure it’s ready for you,” Dad said, keeping his voice soft. “You stay here and rest.”

“Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“Thanks,” he said. “For staying.”

Dad’s strong, warm hand cupped Noctis’ cheek. “There is nothing more important to me than you.”

Noctis leaned into Dad’s hand. He closed his eyes, feeling safe and secure.

“Rest,” Dad said.

* * *

Noctis was determined to walk back to his rooms. They waited for nightfall, and for all the lights between his room and the infirmary to be switched off. Doctor Gainsborough helped Noctis sit, then stand. Noctis took it slow, dizziness swamping him when he first stood up. His back and his leg throbbed distantly, the worst of the pain kept back by painkillers. Looking down at himself, he saw countless bruises and grazes. How could he not remember an explosion?

“There’s no rush,” Doctor Gainsborough said. “Slow and easy. I’d prefer you go in a wheelchair.”

“I can walk,” Noctis said, hoping his aching back and leg weren’t about to betray him.

“We will take it very slowly,” Dad said. He hovered at the infirmary room’s door. “And should be need to rest, we shall do so.”

Noctis didn’t argue. He wanted to get out of here.

Doctor Gainsborough handed a bag of pills over to Dad. “I will come to check you over in the morning,” he said to Noctis.

Noctis agreed. If it meant he got to spend the night in his own bed, he’d agree to anything.

Dad guided him out of the infirmary. Noctis wanted to walk alone, prove he could do it, but Dad wasn’t letting go. Noctis wouldn’t admit it, but that really was for the best. His body felt weird. His head was too heavy, and he ached everywhere. As the usually short journey to his room wore on, he leaned more and more into Dad.

“Do you need to stop?” Dad asked.

“No,” Noctis said, breathing harder than he usually would. Why was this so hard? “I wanna get to my room.”

“Straight to bed too,” Dad said.

“Definitely,” Noctis said on a sigh.

The reached the elevator. It took them up to their private residential floor. A wave of nauseating dizziness swept over Noctis. He clung to Dad, his vision fuzzing. The next thing he knew, he was off his feet and in Dad’s arms.

Noctis didn’t fight. He slumped against Dad, focusing entirely on not throwing up or passing out.

“A wheelchair may have been a better solution,” Dad said. “Fortunately, you’re not so big that I can’t carry you.”

“Sorry,” Noctis said.

“Hush now,” Dad said. “Let’s get you to bed. You’ve gone a rather alarming shade of white.”

Dad hurried them to Noctis’ room, where the lights were thankfully dim. Dad tucked Noctis into bed, lifting his legs onto a pillow.

“Why?” Noctis asked.

“Your blood pressure is too low,” Dad said. “We need to get it back up to that poor, aching head of yours.”

Noctis didn’t argue. Being back in bed agreed with him. The dizziness and nausea receded.

“Ah, good, that’s put some colour back in your cheeks,” Dad said.

“I feel better,” Noctis said.

“Good.” Dad sat beside him, the bed dipping. “It’s definitely time for you to get some more sleep.”

Eyes closed, Noctis’ hand moved, bumping against Dad’s leg. Dad grabbed it, holding it tight. Noctis sighed, contented. He felt safe, secure. Like maybe his head wasn’t going to be on the verge of exploding forever. “Stay?” he asked Dad.

“It’s alright. I won’t be going anywhere,” Dad said. He gave Noctis’ hand a squeeze. “And neither are you.”

“Still don’t remember,” Noctis said, words slurring.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dad said. “What matters is you’re on the mend. Now, get some sleep.”

A smile tugged at Noctis’ lips. “Story?”

Dad chuckled. “Did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally made something explode in the training hall?”

Even with his eyes closed, Noctis grinned. He liked the sound of this story already. “Did you get in a lot of trouble?”

“Oh, I was grounded for a very, very long time. I took out quite a few priceless art pieces.”

Noctis carefully shifted himself closer to Dad. “What happened?”

“Clarus is what happened. He dared me to use my magic to light a candle in the gallery.”

“But you created an explosion instead?”

“You know perfectly well how hard it is to control magic on such an intricately tiny thing,” Dad said, sounding defensive. “But Clarus dared me, and I couldn’t resist, so –”

Noctis drifted off to the tale of Dad’s youthful mistakes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Y'all know where to find me on [Tumblr](https://breakfastteatime.tumblr.com/)


End file.
